


only nerds hang out in the library

by tonight_aliv



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Clones, Gen, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonight_aliv/pseuds/tonight_aliv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>arc v secret santa gift about some embarrassing nerds who hang out in the library for no reason other than to irritate each other...</p>
            </blockquote>





	only nerds hang out in the library

**Author's Note:**

> Arc V secret santa 2015 on tumblr for tumblr user happiidee! :D

The soft echo of raindrops on the well-worn brick building was not enough to drown out the shuffle of shoes across matted carpet within the old library in the center of town. The smell of card stock, mold and coffee blended in a way that only a thunderstorm could oppress. The entire building smelled strongly of humidity and raindrops, no matter down which of the tens of aisles of tall bookshelves was ventured. The scent left the library heavy, the air inside kept alive and moving only through the wills of the library's few inhabitants pacing from shelf to shelf. There was no air conditioning here in the late rainy season. The deep sighs and steps of the patrons would keep the rain-ladden air flowing, if by no other means than by sheer defiance.

Toward the back corner of the library gathered a few round tables of modest fake wood. Each was surrounded by nondescript chairs, some matching the tables while others obviously found usual residence at the individual desks and desktop computers at the other corner. These tables were rarely used, but the multitude of scratches and dents and pen marks that marred their surfaces betrayed their age: many meetings, projects, and hushed conversations had occurred in this back corner of the library. The quieted world lent to a world and focus, far removed from any whimsy that might otherwise accompany the rest of a world of reading and wonder that the rest of the library's décor.

One table was oft occupied more often than not in these last few weeks. An edge of it lay tangent to the dingy cream-colored wall, and five mismatched chairs surrounded. Three chairs matched the study area, their upholstered seats a dingy pattern of curved lines that should have been buried back in the 1980's when it was woven. The other two chairs we pulled from behind individual desks. The rough gray cloth was torn in several parts of the seats, and one edge on each was held together with marred silver duct tape.

Yuya sat on the more worn of the two chairs. The metal springs inside its ugly casing groaned as he shifted his weight against the back rest, but no one much minded the sound over their hushed laughter. Yuya smiled broadly, showing the small gaps between his teeth as his hands eased to rest behind his mess of short, unstyled hair.

“Come on, Shun,” he managed lowly when the snorts died down, “you should do it! It'll be fun!”

A long sigh answered him, accompanied by more derisive laughter. Three matching shit-eating grins were hushed with a glare, dissolving into nothing more than giggles. Yuya followed the atmosphere at the table and held fast to his photocopied script once more, his smile mellowed and humbled as he read familiar stage directions and lines from whatever adaptation of Footloose his troupe was performing this year.

_Ren:_ _[_ _dramatically_ _] And I'm on fire!_

Yuya was flanked by his identicals on either side, as strange as the turn of phrase sounded. To his right, Yuri took up a usual residence by the wall. He had loosened the collar on his Academia dress shirt some time ago, his dark blue jacket hanging off of his narrow shoulders like a cape. His careful bob of a haircut was tousled by too many pensive fingers drawing his long bangs over his part in a sign of nonchalant boredom over the course of the day. His ankles were crossed in his seat to match the sentiment, and his elbows rested lightly at his knees. His math homework fell in piles at the table in front of him, but he paid them no mind, opting instead to watch the dark blue app on his smartphone. Something akin to a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth every so often, usually followed by ruffled brows and a huff as he typed something aggressively. His messenger bag had fallen to the floor underneath his chair some time ago, but he paid it no mind. Nothing of value to him was in there, anyway.

“D'you have something against this girl?” Yuri asked without looking up from his phone, despite his gaze narrowing into a dangerous mirth.

Yuto glared at Yuri in warning from his place across the table, but Yuri didn't notice. Nor did Yuri care. Despite their shared features, Yuto and Yuri appeared diametrically opposed to each other. They were opposite ends of the spectrum that encompassed the four of them, as far as appearances were concerned. As much of a spectrum could be constructed with four initially indistinguishable people, that was.

“No,” from close to Yuto's side answered Shun shortly, dismissively.

“Then what's the problem?” Yugo interrupted the conversation energetically. He dropped his magazine to the table for an emphasis that wasn't needed, or even entirely appropriate, to the conversation. The computer chair he occupied began to sway side to side. His faux-hawk followed his motions as they grew more lengthy, swaying to look from one side of the table to the other: Yuya and Yuri to Shun and Yuto, then back again.

After receiving only a cursory glance from Yuya, Yugo continued, “I mean, I'd be so excited if a girl like that asked me to go somewhere. Like, what else do you have to do? Come here and hang out with us until your sister gets out of her cram school every day? I hate to break it to you, but as weird as the four of us are, we're nowhere near as fun as going to the park with a cute girl.”

He ignored the way he could audibly hear Yuri and Yuto roll their eyes in perfect synchronicity.

“Speaking of sisters,” Shun deadpanned without missing a beat, “how's Rin?”

Yugo felt his face flush before he fully processed the statement. His eyes darted down to trace the shining motorcycle on the cover of his magazine, suddenly finding it and his trashed fingerless gloves infinitely fascinating. His ears stung at her name as it was muttered so casually, so unexpectedly, and he hated how exposed his face was in that moment. He could feel amused looks trained on him, but his thoughts were too muddled to calm down.

“S-she's not my sister!” he managed.

“You know that she might as well be, if the two of you grew up in the Church together,” Yuri countered. Yugo hated the smooth smirk that pervaded his voice. “She's more your sibling than any of us, at least.”

Yugo was completely red-faced by now, he was sure of it. He took to picking at the hem of his gloves, careful not to unravel them too far. He forced himself to think of the vibrations of a motor under his palms, the feel of gusts in his face. He focused on crisp air, on bright days and rumbling mechanics that he had built on his own. He thought of, maybe one day, small hands at his narrow waist, holding securely to his favorite white vest. No matter what she really meant to him, she would be smiling. Freedom. Happiness. Their shared dream.

And just like that, Yugo regained his composure.

“Which prompt did you choose for this traditional literature assignment?” Yuto voiced to the contemplative silence that had befallen the table once again. Yugo glanced up at the question, confusion evident in his gaze, until he realized with a start that the question had been directed at Shun.

It occurred to Yugo for maybe the thousandth time that he never would have pegged Yuto for the reluctant-genius type. He had only seen Yuto's hair gelled into lazy spikes, as if merely the result of too much hair product and far too much hair. The style was always particular to keep hair out of Yuto's face, as if anything else would be nothing short of disastrous. His uniforms were all hand-me-downs from others in their orphanage, he had once told Yugo, a fact made obvious in comparison to Shun's slightly more vibrantly-colored uniform. In the same breath, Yuto had also told Yugo that he much preferred to wear black.

_To match his eyeliner_ , Yugo had snickered under his breath at the time.

This time, he mumbled, “Rin is my best friend. She is not my sibling.” His fingers then made a careful show of picking up his magazine from off the table. He flipped to a random page and pretended to read it, dismissing the conversation on his own terms, not Yuto's. He also made a point to ignore Yuri's snort, choosing to interpret it as one of those sneers directed at Yuri's precious discourse rather than at anything he had said.

“Hey, it's after five-thirty,” Yuya said soon after, granting the table one of his complacent smiles. “We should probably head back; I promised my mom I'd take care of some things while she's on her date.”

The rest of the group allowed Yuya a slight nod, nothing sympathetic and nothing hostile. They each stood without anything like a goodbye, all returning to their entirely separate lives in separate parts of town.

_See you tomorrow_ was unspoken, unneeded, and obvious.


End file.
